When you scroll through your latest Iphone X, apart from the hundreds of notifications of new Instagram followers, you also have about fifty new Tinder matches. They are all bibliophiles who love dogs and would do anything to make you vegan breakfast in bed. Their messages to you would put Shakespeare to shame: “Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant I saw you, I knew you deserved a meal at that new and very overpriced restaurant”.
The monthly payments for that second-hand Android are really dragging you down. The only thing you have posted on your Instagram lately, (with that new and improved camera feature), is a photo of a sponsored work meal from two weeks ago. Your social media influence is frankly bleak. Oh, but an on and off Tinder notification does slightly brighten your day. It reads, often without much grammar, “coffee, tea or me?”. Attached is a d*ck pic.
Your date texts you an hour in advance saying that he is longing to see you in your dress - and boy do you have a choice of dresses sprawled in front of you! From the latest by Victoria Beckham to your vintage Valentino - you can’t help but smile at your Carrie Bradshaw wardrobe. You are an independant woman and writer coin does in fact pay THAT much. So, go ahead. Have your pick girl. You are the Ashley Graham of your friends: you don’t starve yourself, have all the right curves and look good in practically everything, (even a mid-riff showing cut-out dress).
After several text messages, you finally convince your date that his house is not your idea of a good time. You also manage to set-up this date (like your last ten dates) at your favorite bar next door. Literally, it’s next door incase things go awry and you can run away. You pick out that Forever 21 little black dress, even though you are NOT twenty one anymore. But only because black is a very flattering colour. It doesn’t matter if it’s a few sizes too small, you do not care enough and unconsciously sabotage all your strange encounters.
The man of your dreams (basically The Rock) pulls out the chair for you. You order your favourite martini and you both engage in intellectual banter that has a touch of I-am-going-to-rip-your-clothes-off-later. He mentions his love for cuddling and his passion for saving the planet and that's enough to get any girl wet. He comments on your effortless beauty and finds your chubbiness rather charming. What a great and inclusive man. If he’d be any Game of Thrones character, he chooses Jon Snow/Targaryen and at this point - you are ready to have his inscest babies.Your date doesn’t stand up when you walk in but he does check you out and the waitress. He orders himself a beer and finds your interest in whiskey simply intimidating. “Good girls don’t drink whiskey” and “are you sure you want to repeat that drink?” are his passing comments mid-conversation. Even before the starters arrive, he gets a call to "help a friend". You spend the rest of the night helping yourself out.